


Ships That Pass In The Night

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Prowl is bad at jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz has reached a breaking point in silently wishing for more with Prowl; to his surprise, Prowl has as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ships That Pass In The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Jazz's accent is extremely irritating to type out so I won't be writing it out phonetically most of the time. His dialogue won't be spot-on with how he sounds in canon but it'll save a tiny bit of my sanity. Just, uh, imagine it in there?

"Understood. Your report is complete. Dismissed."

Jazz could see Prowl stiffen slightly, waiting for one of various quips the saboteur always threw at him. And today would've been an excellent opportunity to needle the SIC, flinging sarcasm over his shoulder as he sauntered out, except Jazz was so hyped on an unusual charge it took a fair amount of his processing power to not hop from foot to foot. Too relieved to be able to flee, Jazz simply touched two fingers to his helm in a lazy salute and turned on his heel, hurrying toward the door.

"Jazz."

_Scrap, so close_. "Yeah?" Jazz half-turned, surprised to find Prowl's head bent to his work. As annoying a workaholic Prowl was, he _always_ made optic contact when speaking. "What?"

 "See that someone takes care of your charge," Prowl replied dispassionately at his data pad. "Your work performance suffers drastically when you do not. I do not want a repeat of the last megacycle."

Jazz froze, processors spinning with the confusion of Prowl actually registering emotion _and_ mentioning it like it was- was a _garbage statistic_. Once again, on any other day he would've been able to make a snarky remark and continue his escape, but his systems were already running hot and his plating itched and _slaggit_ Mirage was no longer an option for release now that he had his cuddle buddy Hound... Jazz tilted his head, visor flaring angrily as he stomped back to the desk, slamming his hands flat on the surface. "Excuse me?"

 Prowl sat back in his chair, keeping a healthy distance between them as he glanced up, visor dim with disinterest. "If your audials are damaged, make an appointment with Ratchet immediately."

 Emotions normally kept locked under layers of firewalls surged through Jazz's systems, expedited by the wild charge flickering across his frame. Rage, longing, desire, jealousy- feelings that were too volatile to acknowledge, that could damage Jazz's stability and ability to function at such incredibly high levels- they had been repressed and hidden to the point he couldn't swallow them back; not while staring at the placid expression on Prowl's face that never, _ever_ wavered. Jazz honestly didn't know if he'd prefer to punch Prowl until he offlined or frag him into the floor. Or both, both were equally attractive options. Unfortunately the latter was _never_ an option, and the irritation of that fact had apparently built over the vorns to this moment of critical mass.

 "You know what, Prowl? _Frag you_ ," Jazz spat, fingers curling into fists, digging grooves into the desk. "But that's the problem, ain't it? I betcha wouldn't know a charge if it short-circuited that fancy aft of yours, so I dun wanna hear _you_ of all mechs tellin' me what to do with _mine!_ "

 Prowl remained perfectly still, the thin mouth dipping slightly into a disapproving frown. It was the _only_ type of emotion Prowl ever displayed, and this time that miniscule twitch just set off another round of fury in the saboteur. Jazz raised one hand, pointing accusingly.

 "If you actually tore yerself from your precious data pads and got yer head outta said aft, maybe you'd realise I _only_ get all charged up like this around _you_ ," Jazz snarled. "But oh no! That would require you to pay attention to somethin' _other_ than numbers and charts! 'Course, you ain't _that_ ignorant," he seethed, stalking around the desk and taking several intentional steps into Prowl's invisible personal space, fields flaring in a rare flicker as he lost control over them. "Which means you either completely ignore it- ignore _me_ \- as _unnecessary information,_ or know it and _don't give a scrap_ , you unfeeling cold _machine-!_ "

 Jazz saw the movement, knew in a split second what Prowl was going to do, but was too amazed at finally, _finally_ provoking a response to block the attack. He grunted as his back hit the wall, wrists pinned at his sides by a strong grip, Prowl venting harshly in his face. The eternally calm demeanor cracked, flickers of mirrored rage twisting Prowl's visage.

 "You profess to have the ability to intimately read each mech you encounter," Prowl whispered in a dark voice so unlike his usual even tone. "So tell me, Jazz, if you truly possess such a gift, why are you acting as if _you_ are the one who is completely clueless?"

Whatever Jazz had been expecting Prowl to say, that was _not_ it. More confused than before, he writhed in Prowl's grasp with a soft growl. "What're you talkin' about?"

Prowl pressed further, close enough that their tightly wound fields occasionally overlapped, igniting small licks of energy around their frames. "When I first met you, I actually believed your outrageous boasts. I believed you would be able to reach past my inadequacies and accept why I am who I am. But no, in the end you are just like everyone else, Jazz. You accuse my severe self-control as a lack of emotion altogether. Or," he added dangerously as his visor dimmed, "you _have_ seen past my multilayered defenses and _you_ have decided to ignore _me_."

 Jazz's optics widened as the horrifying implications slithered past his indignant anger, ceasing his struggles and falling still. "Well that's just it," he fumed, desperate to cling to the rage rather than the creeping guilt, "yer the only mech I _can't_ read. Ain't _my_ fault if I can't get past yer defenses! You won't _let_ anyone get- Wait." Jazz's spark leaped in it's chamber as new possibilities zinged through his processors. "Wait, you mean-,"

 "I am _tired_ of waiting," Prowl rumbled brokenly, his voice nearly a whisper as he bowed his head. "I am _exceedingly_ tired of clinging to this poisonous hope you keep perpetuating. Won't you stop, Jazz? Cease teasing me with the unspoken promise you will _understand_. I cannot- I _cannot_ manage this inner conflict for much longer, it is destroying me."

 Their fury spent, they stood in strained silence for several kliks, unmoving. Jazz's rage dissipated, guilt and shame flooding the emotional spaces left behind. While he had been waiting for Prowl to reciprocate in some way, _any_ way, Prowl had been waiting for him to solve this impossible puzzle. Each waiting for the other to, as Prowl said, understand what barriers existed between them and why.

Jazz easily pulled his hands free, gently cradling the dropped helm as he cycled a long sigh. A displaced part of his processors sang at the ability to touch, tracing his sensitive fingers over the sharp angles of the face he'd craved for so long.

"I failed," Jazz said quietly, amused by the subtle shake of Prowl's helm. "Yeah. Simple as that. I wanted you so much I couldn't see past how you didn't respond to all my usual tricks. After a while I was so afraid you were this emotionless drone I was- I got irrational. I didn't- I didn't think you-,"

Prowl brushed his hands aside as he straightened, doorwings flicking upwards stiffly as some of his cool demeanour returned. "I suppose an explanation would help."

 "Yeah," Jazz snorted with a brief smile.

"I wasn't always like this-,"

"Whoa, seriously?"

Prowl growled irritably, a gentler sound than before as he covered Jazz's mouth with a hand. " _Be still_ for five kliks and let me speak. In my youth, I was reckless and dangerous- much like you-,"

 Jazz couldn't resist a grin at that. Prowl, however, remained as serious as ever.

"-And one day that carelessness cost a mech's life. In hindsight, I have come to terms with the fact that my involvement in the... accident was indirect at best; however, it is also easy to see how different moral choices could have prevented the tragedy."

All amusement gone, Jazz nodded as Prowl lowered his hand. "What happened?"

 "I am not willing to expound upon the subject," Prowl replied crisply, and for once Jazz was not immediately irked by the curt answer. "It affected me deeply. I- I was willing to do anything rather than risk such an occurrence again and learned how to curtail all facets of my emotional self. Over time, I have lost the ability and will to express what I feel." Prowl sighed again, visor brightening to a gentle glow. "Until I met _you_. I wish I could remember how to not be terrified to emote, and I had hoped you could teach me. But-,"

"No, no no no," Jazz murmured, pressing away from the wall and into Prowl's chassis, a thrill tingling down his backstruts when the tactician didn't retreat. "Dun say 'but', that's a dirty word. Say 'and'; _'and now, Jazz, yer gonna teach me everythin' you know'_. Try that. C'mon, Prowler. Say it for me."

"I do not believe _I_ should be the one forced to conform to your wishes at this point," Prowl replied slowly with a frown.

 Jazz wrinkled his nose, weighing his chances of rejection if he objected. He had finally seen Prowl open up and he was very keen to avoid an emotional shutdown. Who knew how long it would take for him to get this close again?

Then again, Jazz was not willing to take _all_ the blame for their current mess. A compromise would have to be struck, and Jazz was nothing if not an excellent negotiator. His lips curled in a charming smile as he carefully stretched his arms up, slowly laying them on Prowl's shoulders, giving him a chance to stop him if need be.

"How's this, then; I promise to teach you if you'll meet me halfway and _let_ me?"

 Prowl studied him for a long enough time Jazz began to feel worried; relief trickled through his systems when the tactician eventually nodded, dark hands finding Jazz's hips and settling there stiffly.

"Scrap, you really know how to keep a mech in suspense," Jazz chided merrily as he leaned into his hold.

"I had to weigh the probabilities you would follow through against your previous behavior," Prowl admitted quietly. "The results were... not promising."

Jazz tilted his head in surprise. "No?"

"The probability repeatedly came up in the negative."

"What?!" Jazz stepped back, hunching his shoulders as he pushed lightly at Prowl's chassis. "Listen here, shiny, I am a mech of my word! I don't lead mechs on, I'm _always_ up front about what I... Oh."

Prowl shrugged, moving to close the distance between them again. "I have seen evidence of your honour to other mechs, but never in respect to myself. Everything I know of you and myself suggests it is not a decision I should agree to."

"I- But you just-!" Jazz sputtered, then gave an undignified squeak as Prowl rushed forward, pressing him into the wall again as he clung to Jazz's frame.

"It seems I have lost my ability for humour as well," Prowl mumbled into Jazz's audial. "My apologies."

Jazz's visor flared brilliantly as his processors raced to make sense of what he'd just experienced. "That- That was a _joke?!_ "

 "A poor one, indeed. The probabilities were, in fact, rather favourable."

"I can't believe it," Jazz panted, frame shivering with repressed laughter. "I never thought I'd live to see the day _you_ make a joke!" He stilled immediately when he felt Prowl's helm bump his, pressing lightly in what was unmistakably an affectionate gesture.

"Even if the numbers had been as disastrous as I suggested," Prowl whispered, visor offlining as those jittery hands found Jazz's waist again, "I would still have agreed."

 Jazz's fans clicked on high as he was painfully reminded of the errant charge he'd begun the day with; he moved his hips lightly, silently begging for more of the hesitant touches. "Primus, Prowler, you always get me running so hot, and you don't even know _how_ to yet. Yer gonna be the death of me, I swear, one way or another. Preferably from too many overloads. S'definitely how I wanna go."

Prowl's hands froze, drawing a soft whine from the saboteur. "It will take me some time to be able to give and receive physical pleasure, and even then it is probable you will be required to initiate," he explained carefully. "I am aware that you have certain needs, so I would suggest you continue your liaisons with others for the time being."

"Are you kiddin'?" Jazz grinned as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Prowl's neck, humming happily. "If I'm that worked up, I'll take care of myself- and maybe I can get you to watch. I want _you_ , Prowler. Always have."

Prowl relaxed minutely, visor flickering on as his fingers began sliding across the sleek frame once more. "Your sentiment, while highly unlikely, is mutual."

"I'll show you 'highly unlikely'," Jazz rumbled, using his grip to tug Prowl down into their first heated kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> This pairing needs way less angst and lots more fluff. ;__;


End file.
